


The Little Red Dress — An Epilogue to Wonderland

by navaan



Series: Little Dream Vision Dress [3]
Category: Iron Man (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Bisexual Tony Stark, Celebrities, Coming Out, Crossdressing, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, News Media, Possessive Steve Rogers, Role Reversal, Secret Identity, Secret Relationship, Tony in A Red Dress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 13:03:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19426555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan
Summary: The world has seen Tony in the blue Alice dress, has heard his words at the press conference — and now speculations, rumors and media interest are running rampant. The interest in Tony's love life is growing leading to weird assumptions — and propositions.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [faite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/faite/gifts).



> And here's the second part of the "small" birthday thing I wrote for faite in March. I hope you still like it. The final scene is the thing I set out to write and the two part plot was just an accident...? ;D
> 
> Thank you so much, dapperanachronism, for beta reading!
> 
> Implied and referenced homophobia in some of the press reactions.

Steve Rogers had always been an early riser, but he knew today he was up this early because once again he’d woken alone. Tony was in Seattle — and Steve missed him. It had only been a few days since he stopped waking up to an empty left side of the bed, but it already had become part of him.

Of course, he knew, that with the lives they led they would always end up spending time apart.

 _Will make the reunions even fonder,_ he mused.

Right now, after he’d been called in by Jan to help with a monster attack on the statue of Liberty and resolving it in under an hour, he was sitting in the Avengers pristinely clean kitchen, trying to ignore the hints of discomfort whenever Jarvis looked his way. Nobody knew what had changed between him and Tony, but it felt like everyone was talking about what was going on with Tony.

Now wonder. 

Everyone knew about the dirt that had been slung Tony’s way and everyone had followed the press conference.

Steve himself was looking at his morning paper and found the story had still not run its course. The opinion piece he was looking at was titled: “Tony Stark — Why this matters more than Iron Man.” He had seen different titles — “From bad billionaire to LGBT icon”, “Is this why Rumiko walked away?” and many that were less friendly — but only this one he was actually reading. It was focused completely on Tony’s statement that he had been with men before and that it wasn’t a big secret.

“Ah,” Jan said, peeking over his shoulder, before she took the chair opposite from him. “Everyone’s treating it as if it’s news. We all knew he was bisexual.” She rolled her eyes.

Hank, who had been very perky recently and had walked in with her, looked at Jan with a furrowed brow: “We did?”

“Please, Hank. Of course, we did. Didn’t we, Cap?”

Steve looked up from the paper to meet her eyes, noticed her bright and inquisitive smile and wondered why she was beaming at him as if they were co-conspirators. He thought that over and said, “I’m not sure I can say I properly knew until recently,” he answered carefully. He hadn’t. He had _hoped._ For a chance. To get Tony all to himself. 

He hadn’t _known_ there was a chance before Tiberius Stone had come into the picture.

Why Jan grinned at him as if he had imparted a huge secret, he couldn’t say. 

“You suspected.”

A shrug was the only answer he could give. He wasn’t about to say anything about his suspicions or all the reasons why he had never right out asked. After he and Tony had talked about what was immediately important, they had been too preoccupied with each other — in very satisfying ways that maybe he shouldn’t be thinking about in company — to talk about how they were going to tell their friends. With other relationships it hadn’t ever been this much of a concern. But they were both Avengers. Many of their teammates had known them as long as they’d known each other.

Like Jan. 

Who was still watching him with eyes that were a little too knowing.

“Good,” she said as if Steve had answered in any way. Her eyes were twinkling. 

“Are we talking about Tony?” Carol had edged around the corner. She was waving a tablet back and forth. “Because this is hilarious. He’ll love it.”

She dropped it in the middle of the table to let all of them see what article she’d been looking at, and there was a picture of him with Iron Man standing at his shoulder at the press conference. Steve knew it was an empty armor, and so did most of the people here, but nobody outside of the circle of hero friends knew Tony Stark was posing as his own bodyguard. 

_Tony Stark and Iron Man — How long has it been going on?_

Steve, who had been about to take a sip of his coffee, nearly spat it out, laughing. Aware that everyone was watching him, he cleared his throat and said: “Come on, that _is_ hilarious. I can even see why people would believe it.”

_Because you idiot believed it once when it looked like your friend and his handsome employer who had given you a home spent a huge amount of time behind closed doors and were always talking for each other._

Remembering his earlier naivety brought a fond smile to his face. He had known it was Tony the second time around, after Rhodes had taken the armor and Tony had pretended someone else was in the armor. That was how well they knew each other.

When he looked up, Jan was still watching him with a thoughtful expression. 

“Carol is right, Tony will love it.” He scanned the paragraph and the writer actually had the audacity to wonder, “how hard it was to please the usually iron-clad hero in bed?”

“And it will conveniently take the heat off any relationship he has,” Jan agreed. “He was always so good with the press. If this lets him get back on his feet then he’ll spin it whichever way they let him. So, Steve, who is it? The guy he’s dating? He’s obviously not with Ms. Fujikawa anymore! Is she staying with Tiberius?”

“Shouldn’t you ask Tony?” he deflected and then he asked in a low voice: “Why do you think it’s a guy?” 

“With that public declaration Tony just gave us it would be very disappointing if it wasn’t,” Jan said and pointed at a quote that was highlighted in an article. It mentioned Tony’s “partner”. Steve remembered Jan’s brief time with Tony and asked himself how many secrets they had shared over the years? “Or what do you think, Steve? Not a guy after all?”

“The important thing is that Tony’s happy,” It came out with too much emotion perhaps, because Jan leaned back to study him some more. She was biting her bottom lip as if she was thinking — or trying not to laugh.

“Well,” she then said, “one thing’s for sure. All the guys who never thought they’d have a chance now know they might have one. They might come queuing up very soon. Anyone who wants to get there better make a move now.”

“Jan,” Carol admonished. “Tony can still date whoever he wants. If he wants. Don’t start matchmaking before you know what’s going on there.”

Steve tried very hard not to furrow his brows and look between them. Surely, they weren’t implying…? Was he that obvious?

“Aww,” Jan said and chuckled, “don’t ruin my fun, Carol. And it’s something Tony said, actually.”

“Something he said?” Steve’s mind caught on the implication that Tony had talked to Jan. Tony hadn’t been at Avengers mansion for more than a few minutes after the press conference. Had Tony actually told Jan already and she was teasing Steve on purpose?

“Sorry, I don’t want to gossip. Tony’s busy rebuilding his business and reputation and things aren’t going as smoothly as he wants yet, I think. Tiberius Stone is now claiming that Tony orchestrated the whole data leak thing and as he has some media power behind him, Tony knows he needs to fight back, but he mentioned he wants to do it without getting his lover into trouble.”

Years of keeping a secret identity, of working with agents and secret operatives had taught Steve a thing or two about poker faces — and that came in handy now. No hint of a reaction passed over his face.

Jan added: “Poor Tony. He won’t have it easy for a while, I hope the relationship survives that. He deserves to be happy.” She tapped Carol’s tablet to call up another article. _Stark trying to hide his crossdressing secrets_ , this one was titled. There were three suggestive pictures of the Alice dress beneath that everyone had already seen. The claim was made that all of those were real and that Tony was attacking Viastone and Tiberius to keep quiet his wild life as — 

“— are they implying Tony sleeps with people to get his contracts?” Frowning, he looked up and met Jan’s eyes. 

Carol leaned over to get a better look. “My god,” she said. “Stone isn’t done yet? I thought he was history already?”

No, Stone wasn’t done. He was in as bad a place as Tony had been for a while, but he was fighting back just the same, and he still had the media corporation he owned on his side. Just like Tony had predicted, this was far from over. And this time Stone was more dangerous, because he knew about Iron Man. He knew about Tony’s true secret.

Another article popped up, _Tony Stark: Assassin or Courtesan?_ and another title read, _How do the Avengers benefit from their ‘benefactor’?”_

This time, Steve’s expression must have darkened. 

“Trouble, Steve?” 

“Always,” he said and quirked his lips, trying not to worry too much. “Of one kind or another. Nothing we can’t take”

Somewhere, Tony was probably seeing briefings with all these headlines and discussions of his sexuality and the persisting allegations cast by Tiberius Stone. He hoped Carol was right, and Tony was amused enough by the idea that he and Iron Man had been secret lovers for years that the rest of this wouldn’t hit him hard. As Tony kept reminding Steve, this was hardly the first time that either of them had to deal with public opinion turning on them.

“Is that Wayne Gordon?” Jan was scrolling on her phone now. 

Steve had never heard the name, but Carol immediately asked: “The actor? He used to come to all of Tony’s parties! He’s a hunk!”

“Who?” Steve tried to get a glimpse and saw a good looking tall man with an attractive face and brown hair and eyes smile winningly at the camera.

“He’s Henry’s friend,” Jan explained, referring to Henry Hellrung. “They were in that one TV show together. Before the Iron Man TV thing… And Wayne went on to become a big star and producer. I think he broke up with his boyfriend recently.”

“He always liked Tony,” Carol said and wriggled her eyebrows.

“He did,” Jan agreed and grinned. 

Why had Steve no idea who this was if he’d obviously been at parties where Avengers had noticed him? And why were Carol and Jan sure this actor had a thing for Tony — and were treating it like a good thing?

“Huh,” Jan said. “He jokingly offered to give an enormous sum to a LGBT charity if Tony comes to the Baintronic’s costume ball in an Alice dress. He offers to be his plus one, too. See the first ones are getting cheeky, Steve.”

He wasn’t sure what the appropriate reaction was for a friend and teammate who had every right to be worried about Tony, but was supposed to have no personal romantic stakes in the matter. The strategist in him decided to play it close to the truth. “I don’t doubt it. That’s still better than papers calling Tony a murderer or callboy.”

“Have you talked to Tony yet?”

“Yes,” he admitted. He wasn’t going to lie more than he had to.

“Your support always means a lot to him.”

“He can use all of our support just now,” Steve said softly, secretly hoping that Tony would be back in New York soon, where Steve could offer comfort.

* * *

Sometimes it was fortunate that his job afforded him the frequent opportunity to punch bad guys in the face. After more Dream Vision users had come forward with their own allegations of foul play, the media was losing interest in slandering Tony — but the charity bid to have him wear the Alice dress for a good cause had found vocal supporters and the story that Tony and Iron Man were romantic partners seemed to spur people’s imagination.

“I’m signing off,” Steve spoke into the comms and Fury grumbled back: “You’re in an awful hurry.”

Steve had in fact just walked through dismantling a Hydra base as if it was a race. “Are you complaining that the threat was neutralized too fast?”

Nick didn’t deign to answer. 

Which was just as well. Captain America had done the job and SHIELD could take care of the rest without his help.

It was a relief to finally make it back to the apartment and enter the window to his living room via the fire escape. He was about to close the window behind himself, when his eyes fell on the jacket hanging neatly folded over the back of one of his chairs in the kitchenette and there was a tablet on the living room table.

“Tony? When did you get back?” He stepped further into the room to put away the shield, finally pull away the cowl.

“An hour ago,” Tony called from the bedroom. “I’ve got something for you.”

“You know you don’t need to bring me something. I’m happy every time you’re here...”

“Are you sure you don’t want to unwrap your present?” Tony asked and appeared in the doorway. 

Steve had just leaned down to stow the shield in a bag. When he saw Tony move from the corner of his eyes, he turned and stood, ready to greet Tony the way he deserved after the trying days he must have had. For a moment, time stopped. 

Stunned, Steve forgot to breathe. 

He was about to blink, rub his eyes or punch himself to confirm this was real and he hadn’t been caught in a technological dream this time — he just couldn’t look away. 

“That good, huh?”

Tony was wearing a dress, reminiscent of the one Steve and the whole world had seen him in — but fitted for him and made from fabric that looked soft and shiny and damn expensive. It was also a dark and shiny red and trimmed with black and gold, adorned with a teasing approximation of the Alice apron. Nothing had the right to look so out of place and yet so stunning.

Steve’s mouth opened but there was no sound. 

Obviously enjoying the moment, Tony stretched and flexed his muscles, showing of his lithe legs — covered in thin, dark material — and wiggled his eyebrows. “I hope you like it.”

Steve tried to find words for it, but he could only stare, committing all details to memory — from the glossy red high heels to every inch of these legs that were sheathed in dark translucent fabric, up to the skirt that was shorter and asymmetrical than the blue one from the Dream Vision, but exactly right to complement Tony’s athletic form. It led his eyes up to Tony’s waist. The apron was doubling as a corset He wanted to get his hands there, around that waist, see how far he could reach with his strong fingers, find out how the silky fabric would feel against skin...

Noticing his struggle Tony leaned in the doorway, drawing his arms around himself, bending a knee — the picture of relaxed amusement — and licked his lips.

This time Steve made a sound, just a tell-tale sound of interested surprise. Tony was wearing makeup — complete with glossy red lipstick.

And, of course, Tony hadn’t missed the sound nor Steve’s reaction to the whole display. “So you do like it? I hoped you would, Steven. I’m all cleaned up for you.”

With a special smile he brought up a hand — sheathed in a red silk glove — and caught the fabric of one finger with his teeth, pulling just enough to threaten to pull it off, promising to reveal skin. 

Not about to find his voice or to put any of the thoughts that were passing through his mind into words, _that_ finally made him spring into action. Bouncing over, his hands found their way around Tony’s waist and he liked seeing them there. He pulled Tony close, gratified to notice Tony’s breathing quicken and the superior amusement give way to glazed eyes and noticeable desire. Up-close, Steve could smell the make-up, but also Tony’s cologne. It all made for the sexiest combination.

He let a hand wander up along the corset, feeling how tight it closed around his lover’s torso. The fabric was soft and smooth and blissfully cool the touch, but he didn’t stop and didn’t let them rest there, letting the fingers of one hand travel up towards the exposed expanse of skin above the collar, felt the deep intake of breath when he touched there.

“Hello,” Tony whispered, a throaty moan disguised as suave flirting.

Steve grinned. “Good to know, I’m not the only one who likes the idea of this.”

His fingers reached Tony’s cheek and Tony leaned into the touch, a gloved hand came up to rest over his and it gave him a good view of Tony’s face. The Van Dyke was styled to perfection - all lines a little smoother, a little more edge than usual, allowing the signature beard to compliment the way the make-up highlighted Tony’s cheekbones and added a porcelain quality to his always attractive features. There was nothing crude about it. Whoever had done the make-up had known what they were doing. No fake eyelashes or splashes of color distracted from Tony’s natural beauty. Everything — kohl around the eyes, color around the lips — had been masterfully applied to enhance what was there and add that hint of femininity that went with the outfit — without taking Tony’s own masculine charm.

“You’re staring,” Tony pointed out, peering up at him through his own eyelashes and only partly disguising the desire that was pooling into his gaze.

“Give me a moment to enjoy the details,” Steve returned and grinned, squeezing Tony’s waist with the hand that hadn’t moved, “before I start wrecking the picture.”

Heat rose in Tony’s face — in his eyes, his cheeks. He fidgeted in Steve’s grip. “God,” he whispered, no longer hiding the near moan there either, “I always wondered if you’d be a strategist in bed too.”

“Always?”

Tony right out blushed at that. “Since before I met you, maybe,” he admitted softly.

It was enough to make Steve want to show Tony exactly how much he was testing Captain America’s fabled control. And _that_ scared Steve more than he wanted to admit.

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew he had a possessive streak, he knew he could be demanding and had caused problems in past relationships. But with Tony — not surprisingly, if he was going to be truthful — _everything_ was more intense. And with how they had finally gotten together, who could blame Steve for feeling things had been overheating from the very beginning.

The strategist in him thought that perhaps it was time to cool it and find a balance that would hold, because losing Tony long-term to a bad break-up was simply _not an option_. Iron Man had been at Steve’s side for far too long and even when they argued and disagreed and sometimes even tested each other’s boundaries, they had always returned to each other and the friendship that was at the core of who he was now.

Time to admit it.

And he did, in the only way he knew how. He leaned in close to kiss Tony right on the shiny, red and kissable lips, with all the emotion, the desperation and _longing_ he was feeling.

 _Lust_ , he admitted to himself, _not longing_ , as Tony sighed and then moaned against his lips, opening his mouth to him. Steve took full advantage of that. His hand was already busy gliding beneath the skirt, revelling in the feel of the fabric against his rough, calloused fingers.

Then Tony grabbed his arms hard and leaned into the kiss as if he was ready for battle. 

Steve was reminded of the kiss he’d received in the Dream vision — that they’d exchanged in the fantasy pushed on Tony by someone else.

This wasn’t like that.

This was Tony’s choice.

Understanding, letting that fact sink in while their tongues were battling and lipstick was now smeared across both their lips, Steve did what he’d wanted to do from the very beginning.

He grabbed Tony around the hips and lifted Tony up like a dance partner in one of the most exciting dances Steve had ever danced in his life. A tiny noise of surprise escaped Tony, but he grasped Steve’s face between his hands and didn’t end the kiss at all, his legs settled around Steve’s mid-section and Steve pushed them up against the wall beside the door frame to have better purchase. 

“God,” he whispered into Tony’s mouth and they finally had to break apart for air.

Tony still looked like the most exotic dream figment Steve could have thought up, his blue eyes dark with arousal and still perfectly lined by kohl. The make-up was surprisingly perfect still. Only a streak of lipstick on the corner of Tony’s mouth ruined the picture somewhat. 

It made Steve want to ruin it completely.

He dove in for a second kiss and Tony let him, always happy to let him kiss at leisure. Tony, Steve had discovered already, liked being kissed and touched and held. He liked closeness and the physicality of sex — all things Steve was more than ready to give him.

This time Tony broke away first, taking a deep breath. “Cap, god, Cap, wow…”

Steve could feel the bulge under the skirt poke into his midsection. Heat rose in him when he realized he was still wearing the uniform, had never recorded the chainmail shirt, uniform pants or even the red boots. 

“Right here?” Tony asked and his eyes were practically on fire.

“Against the wall?” The idea was appealing.

“Wherever you want me.” Tony licked his lips.

“Bed,” he ground out, realizing with fiery clarity that while he would _love_ this, fast and hard and using his strength to hold Tony up the whole time, it would be a waste to have him in this dress and not _see_ it. 

He let Tony down to stand on the perfect high heels and let him out of the brace of his arms. Tony was about half an inch taller than him like this, he noted. “Walk to the bed,” he ordered and he knew he was using his Captain America on the battlefield voice.

It was worth it to see Tony’s face blanch and his eyes widen, before Tony’s eyes caught Steve’s in a smoldering look and licked his lips. “As you wish,” he said softly, “my lord.”

Fingers clenching and nostrils flaring, Steve bit his lip, needing that tiny sting of pain to center himself, to hold back, to keep control — and then watched Tony walk away with a coy look thrown back at him over one shoulder. The muscles in his lean calves drew Steve’s eyes down to Tony’s legs and the high-heels. Watching him walk with the surety and elegance of a dancer knowing of their audience was magical. Tony didn’t trip or stumble on his way to the bed, balancing his walk perfectly, his hips swaying as if they were sending an elegant invitation to be grabbed again. 

Swallowing and breathing as evenly as possible, Steve watched Tony arrive at the foot of the bed that they’d been sharing for such a short time.

“Do you want me to strip?” Tony asked and he sounded coy and shy, playing a game that fit with the costume he’d chosen.

“No,” Steve said and took another moment to look at the work of art. “No, I want you exactly like that right now.”

“Oh?” 

Tony said and turned in a circle around himself, reminding Steve again of a dancer as he opened his arms a bit to let the skirt swing around his knees. 

Having a plan now, Steve was about to tell him to stand still, but Tony gave him a perfect view of his back and bent over the side of the bed — too perfect and too slow not to be deliberately teasing as the skirt rode up higher and exposed more of his thighs just under his backside, not exposing his buttocks just yet.

It was nearly enough to make Steve bounce over and _touch_ , but he remained rooted to the spot.

 _Stick with the plan, soldier_ , he told himself and watched. 

Tony grabbed something and pulled it up. “I brought you something else,” he said, as he straightened up. In his hands he held a bright red cape. “My lord,” he added and fluttered his lashes.

“I’m just a soldier, sweetheart. Nothing like that.”

As if he was hearing this for the first time, Tony cocked his head and studied him. “Not with me, you aren’t. I’m yours to command. Don’t you want me?”

The game was clear and Steve’s wasn’t about to break the confines of it. He knew what he wanted.

He pushed himself off the wall and stalked towards Tony, took the cape from his hands and instead of putting it around his own shoulders to play the part of king, he spread it over the bed in one swoop. Then he pulled Tony towards himself, one arm around his hips and kissed him — slower this time.

“On your hands and knees,” he ordered next.

It was sexy to see Tony scramble to comply. When Tony was about to kick of the red shoes, Steve halted him. “Leave them on.”

Tony looked back at him, his hand and one knee already on the bed in a half-crawl, giving Steve the perfect view of his arched back, and the way the skirt was riding up his hips. “The heels are sharp,” he warned.

“I’m not afraid of bruises,” he said with a smile. He wouldn’t mind bruises. He was sure in his excitement he would leave some on Tony. “Eyes forward.” 

Letting the moment carry him, as the fantasy unfolded in front of his eyes, he stepped closer to arrange Tony himself.

None of his previous lovers had allowed him anything like this. Oh, they had found his strength and stamina a turn on, but all the serious relationships he’d had over the years, had been with the kind of independent women who had to fight too often to get respect. None of them had been ready or willing to yield control under any circumstances. And he liked that, the strength and independence, the will to solve your own problems whatever it took. Tony had that independence in droves — and he had just returned from dealing with his own problems alone. 

But he was here now, offering himself — the one to instigate this game and Steve could see how for Tony giving up control could be a _desired_ respite from having to keep the hand on the handles all the time.

With the thought he bent down to stroke his fingers along Tony’s legs. The surface of the nylon was soft and smooth and it looked like Tony had shaved his legs for this too. Gently, Steve let his hands glide up over Tony’s calves and along his thighs and then grabbed the firm ass still hidden under the skirt with one palm. 

Tony hissed — the most desperate sound of pleasure.

“You like being touched?” Not usually one for this kind of talk, Steve couldn’t resist it now. Tony was obviously enjoying the game and his own uniform pants were tight enough now that they were going to burst soon.

“Yes, please, touch me,” Tony whispered and there was the hint of a whimper in it that Steve had never heard there before.

He let his other hand vanish beneath the skirts folds, reaching for Tony’s front.

Tony moaned — and so did Steve. Tony was rock hard, his cock trapped beneath the pantyhose hidden from Steve’s gaze by the folds of red and gold fabric. Lured by the need he found there, Steve leaned one leg on the bed and stroked the hardness until Tony’s arms shivered on the bed, threatening to give out under his weight, soft sighs and moans escaping him.

For Steve, it broke any resolve to keep himself in check. His own desire flared and he whispered: “I hope you don’t need those any more —” and used both hands to rip the pantyhose right above Tony’s ass.

Tony gasped and arched his back in surprise and then shivered. 

Pushing up the skirt finally revealed skin, and perfectly muscled cheeks beneath — and a puckered opening Steve couldn’t wait to get to.

“Do you have anything to…?”

“I’m all slicked up,” Tony whispered over his shoulder, letting their heated gazes meet. He was blushing too, until his cheeks were as crimson red as the lipstick he’d chosen.

It was the last straw. With one hand Steve fumbled with his uniform to free himself, with the other, he tested the claim. The first finger, slid in easily. Tony must have done more than simply slick himself up. He had _prepared_ himself.

He was panting and moaning prettily too. 

“You’re so ready,” Steve marvelled, “so ready for me.” His own cock was in his hand, hard and aching. He hadn’t even properly pulled the uniform pants out of the way, but he didn’t care. He positioned himself and pushed forward, slowly at first.

Never one to take things quietly, Tony moaned: “You feel very ready, too, soldier.”

Any thought of taking it slow, went right out of the window. He moved, pushed, grabbed Tony’s hips firmly until Tony cried out — a keening, pleasured and yet surprised sound. From there it was all grunting and sweat-slick skin slapping against skin, while Steve rode Tony like a man in heat.

“Is this what battle does to you?” Tony asked, between moans. 

“Only _you_ do this to me,” Steve answered. He was seconds away from it becoming too much and he knew he was jerking Tony too hard, was leaving fingerprints and bruises under the soft red fabric.

“Good, good,” Tony moaned. “Cap, god, Cap, please.”

Steve took that as an invitation to let go completely. 

It didn’t take much to bring himself over that final edge. After he caught himself, before he could crush Tony and fell onto the mattress beside him, skin hot.

“So you really did like the dress,” Tony said and clicked his tongue. His cheeks were red and he was still an enticing sight to behold. He rolled to his back and reached down to his skirts. He hadn’t come yet. 

Steve caught Tony by the wrist before he could touch. “My job.”

He took Tony in hand and started pumping it hard, holding Tony’s gaze for a moment, before he sat back up, kneeling on his haunches — and dove down under the folds of the skirt and pushed it up over Tony’s belly, hearing the surprised intake of breath when Tony realized what he was doing, felt his fingers rip the rest of the stockings out of the way so he could reach beneath.

“Red again? Reminds me of how I met the man in the suit of armor properly for the first time.”

“You remember,” Tony sing-songed, fluttering his eyelashes, but it was followed by a sharp intake of breath, when Steve pushed the flimsy red fabric out of the way carefully, freeing the dripping cock from beneath it. When Steve softly blew a breath against it, Tony, arched back so suddenly that the wet tip nearly touched Steve’s cheek. 

He licked his lips, wondered what picture they were making here and pressed a kiss against Tony’s thigh, before mouthing the tip and working up the courage to suck on it.

“Oh, god, Steve,” Tony moaned. “This is too much. This is _too_ much.”

That was enough to egg him on, because Tony had started this — the least he could do was make him come in his pretty dress, legs spread out over Steve’s shoulders. He set to work, focused on Tony’s smell, the feel and taste of the silky length in his mouth. Tony’s fingers buried themselves in his hair.

“Steve!” he cried.

Experimentally, he sucked harder in answer. Tony’s leg muscles flexed and the smooth edge of a high heel rested against Steve’s shoulder blade suddenly. That as much as the sounds that Tony was making and the desperate way Tony’s fingers were kneading his scalp and pulling his hair, that made Steve shudder with returning fire. 

“Oh, Cap,” Tony _whimpered_ , “please.”

The words were music to his ears, a crescendo and a whole new inferno in his veins. Steve slid the length from his mouth and uses his fist to pump it a few more times until Tony spilled himself over his fingers and the nice silk of the dress.

Watching the display with the keen eye of an artist, Steve sat back and said: “I should paint you.”

“Naked,” Tony said after he found his voice. “I… think we ruined the dress _and_ your uniform for anything else ever.”

“I think both can be washed… or _replaced_ ,” Steve suggested.

“You want it to be replaced?” Tony asked and with one no longer gloved finger touched the star in the middle of his chest.

“I was more thinking of this.” He flipped the folds of the skirt up. “I’m also not sure that I’m done with you.”

He was on top of Tony again to kiss him, before the other man could as much as protests.

Tony wasn’t protesting though. “My, my,” he said and fluttered his lashes. “Good that I don’t need this dress anymore.”

“I thought it was my gift?” Steve asked, ready to start another round of possibly more passionate lovemaking now that the edge was off.

“You’ll see,” Tony whispered and stroked a hand down Steve’s cheek. 

“You’re obviously not wearing this to any fancy galas with how it looks now.” He was glad he didn’t have to hide how smug he was feeling about that fact.

“Oh?” Tony blinked with actual surprise this time. “You heard about that?”

“Yes,” he said. “People keep me well informed about all things Iron Man.”

“People, huh?” Tony laughed. “I think Jan thinks she has to keep me well informed about all things Steve Rogers, too.”

“No gala,” Steve said and this time not as a question.

“Oh, actually, no. I told him I had a jealous boyfriend, but it started a bidding war between a Viastone magazine and Vogue and I couldn’t resist the charity aspect. So…”

“I feel I need to enjoy ruining the dress a lot more now,” Steve declared, not interested at this very moment to hear the rest of the story. Tony didn’t seem interested in putting off the touching and kissing to finish the conversation right now either.

* * *

He held the Vogue magazine in his hands the next morning. It was on all the stands already and there was the usual ruckus happening around it. There were only two pictures in total of Tony in the dress. He explained that this had been the deal. The rest were of him in a nice looking suit and presenting himself in the setting of the successful CEO. But the two Wonderland pictures were what people would talk about for years.

“Carol was sure you’d play up the Iron Man angle,” Steve mentioned, appreciating the full detail of the dress he’d ruined now that he could see it with the eye of an artist. In one of the two pictures, Tony was leaning against Iron Man, one arm on the armor’s left shoulder and looking at the camera. The armor had been adorned with the red cape and crown. It looked impossibly _not_ ridiculous at all. Whoever had arranged this had made sure it was tasteful and classy.

In the second, Tony was the one sitting in a red and gold throne, holding a sceptre and wearing the crown and cape while Iron Man stood behind the chair like the loyal bodyguard — or husband.

“I like this much better than the blue-naive girlish dress,” Tony commented. “But it’s still not my style.”

“I don’t know,” Steve disagreed. ““You keep reminding me that blue was never your color. I disagree. Your eyes make it a perfect color for you.”

_Why did I say that? Can I not get my brain to move away from my own treacherous desire?_

“Really?” Tony put his issue of the magazine down to study Steve. “Blue looks good on me?”

“Of course,” Steve said, his throat incredibly dry as he watched Tony — wearing Steve’s jeans that were too baggy on him and grey t-shirt — get up to refill his coffee. 

He paused by Steve to peck him on the brow and say: “Of course. It’s your color and you look good on me, too. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Steve’s cheeks heated up. Watching Tony walk to the sink, Steve let the magazine fall closed. It didn’t matter who got to see Tony like that. After all he was the only one who got to see Tony in jeans Steve loved wearing, or who’d seen him as he’d been when they’d ruined the dress together. And from now on, he’d make sure that nobody got to use any of it against him.

“You’re brooding,” Tony said and leaned against the counter before taking a sip of coffee, relaxed and as handsome as ever.

“Just enjoying the view.”

They smiled at each other, comfortable in this newly growing intimacy that for the moment was confined to Steve’s apartment. Something he didn’t have to share. “Can we tell the other Avengers?” he finally asked, remembering the way Jan had tried to coax him into talking about Tony. He recognized strategically given information when it was thrown at him. “Before Jan tries to set you up with someone else.”

“I would appreciate it, because I don’t think I’ll enjoy all the jokes about being married to my empty armor. Rhodey called specifically to tell me he always knew there was nothing but work for me.”

“Ah.” Steve laughed. “Let’s tell the people we want to know.”

Tony nodded, and Steve vowed to make this moment of secret intimacy last a little longer. It would be as pleasing to get Tony out of jeans as it had been getting him out of the dress.


	2. A tiny Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some admirer's don't give up

“I hope you’re happy,” Jan said. “You caused another bidding war.”

Tony took the tablet form her to scan the article. “Another charity bidding war at least,” he said smugly.

“You already knew,” she accused and tried to catch Steve’s eyes at the kitchen table. “Wayne Gordon invited Tony to the gala and wants him to wear…”

“I already said no,” Tony said. “Jealous boyfriend.”

“Very jealous boyfriend,” Steve agreed, making Jan giggle. “I’m sure we can think of a better way to be charitable. Avengers’ masked ball? That way I could even dance with you?”

Jan’s eyes went wide. “That’s an amazing idea! I love it! Let’s do it!” She hooked her arm through Tony’s, in her element with making plans.

“Sure,” Tony said, “I’m game, but I’ll let my fashion adviser know you only want to undress me later.”

For a moment, Jan gaped at Steve, then she laughed when Steve admitted Tony’s point by giving her a slightly embarrassed smile and a shrug. He wasn’t going to lie.

“It’s good to see both of you happy, finally,” she giggled. “I’ll make sure that undressing him will be as enticing as watching him in the clothes.”

“Thank you,” Steve said and bit his lip, still embarrassed. 

He didn’t mind that much when Tony gave him a brilliant smile.

He loved seeing it.

Knowing that Jan and probably other friends were watching them, he smiled back.


End file.
